A Broken Distance
by Na-ma-go away
Summary: Michael goes off for a year to work on another movie with Solomon, and Trevor is left behind. One-shot, rated T for bit of swearing.


**First of all, I'd like to apologize to all my readers that are waiting for an update for Sleepwalking! I've been super busy, and actually have some chapters done that should be up sometime soon (most likely next week). My beta and I are going through finals, so we've been busy and I didn't have too much inspiration for a while there, and I'm so sorry! Hopefully the chapters will be up soon. This is sort of like a quick little apology, and because I read about an OTP prompt on imagineyourotp on Tumblr, and I couldn't resist not writing it. So, I hope you all enjoy it.**

**Basically just a short little one shot with some one sided Trevor/Michael**

**The Prompt: _Imagine your OTP don't see each other for about a year. When they finally reunite at the airport, they make a huge scene as B runs over and tackles A down right there, causing all their stuff to spill everywhere._**

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It had been months since Trevor had seen Michael.

Michael had gotten a chance to do another movie with Solomon Richards and he had jumped at it. Trevor remembered how excited Michael had sounded when he described the plot; he didn't even notice Trevor's eye roll (he thought that it sounded even stupider than Meltdown). Then, Michael mentioned how long he'd be gone to film; a whole fucking year.

The thought caused Trevor to freeze up, and a sudden squeezing pain made its way through his body. A slight terror overcame him; the last time when Michael left for a long time, he had been playing dead. Trevor didn't like the idea of having Michael so far away from him.

For the few weeks before Michael had to go, Trevor was attempting at getting him to stay. Saying that he had things planned for them ("C'mon, Mikey! Don't tell me the Big One was the last job? I've got some plans!"), tried passing the fact he'd miss Michael terribly onto someone else ("Frank's gonna miss you."), and flat out tried to guilt trip him ("You gonna come back alive this time, you fucking snake?"). Unfortunately, nothing had worked. Michael could barely see past the haze of excitement to acknowledge Trevor's feelings.

So, Michael had left. The day he had to go, Trevor insisted on driving him to the airport, despite Amanda's objections. Michael's pair of fake tits had wanted to drive him, but Trevor relented until he got his way. With angry grumbles and whispers into his ear, Amanda had told Michael goodbye. Tracey had called earlier in the day to wish her dad a good trip (she was at college, trying to become a something to do with beauty, either a beautician, or maybe a hairdresser? Trevor couldn't remember too well). Jimmy had even come out of his room-gaming headset still on, of course-and had knuckle bumped with his father.

The drive to the airport had been calm, almost peaceful, despite how Trevor was feeling. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, ignoring his thoughts of ditching the airport and taking Michael to Sandy Shores. He countered the thought with remembering how much this movie meant to Michael, and it helped ignore the other thoughts. Michael spoke animatedly about the movie, promised to call and text Trevor while he was there, and was positively beaming on the way. Trevor couldn't help but steal a few glances, committing the happiness on Michael's face to memory.

He ignored the ache in his heart as Michael opened the Bodhi's door. He turned at the last second and smiled at Trevor.

"Hey, I'm gonna miss you."

Trevor managed a smile on his face. "Gonna miss you too, Mikey." He didn't voice just how much he was going to miss Michael, or the fear that Michael wouldn't come back. Instead, he kept his mouth shut for what felt like the first time in forever. He almost leaned over to pull Michael into a hug, _almost_, but decided against it.

Michael nodded at him and went to the back of the truck, pulling his bag out. He walked towards the doors of the airport, and Trevor watched, his heart sinking.

Michael turned around. "You're gonna pick me up when I get back, right?" He called over.

Trevor nodded. "Yeah, 'course." In all honesty, he would've been at the airport waiting for Michael whether Michael liked it or not. He sure wasn't just going to wait around patiently when he knew Michael was back in the city.

Michael smiled and waved. "I'll see you then, T."

"Till then, porkchop." Trevor grinned a bit, and he saw Michael roll his eyes as he turned away.

With his heart heavy in his chest, and a black cloud settling over him, Trevor drove away from the airport.

The rest of the year had been lonely, to say the least. Trevor tried to distract himself as much as he could. He helped Chef out in the kitchen, killed hitchhikers, hung out with Franklin, Ron and Wade and managed business at the Vanilla Unicorn (or gawked at the strippers while also making some of the men uncomfortable with his predator-like stare).

Still, in the back of his head, Trevor kept looking forward to every phone call he received from Michael. His heart would leap in his chest every time his phone buzzed with a text message or it rang with a call. His heart would either beat hard when he saw it was Michael, or fall with disappointment when it wasn't him (the person on the other side of the line usually ended up getting shit from Trevor, which left them sounding confused and frightened).

Twelve months dragged on, and it felt like time wasn't even moving. That Trevor would be stuck forever in Los Santos without Michael, that he'd be left behind by his best friend _again_. The thought terrified him, and things rarely scared Trevor Phillips. Michael Townley/De Santa/Whatever the fuck Michael was going by seemed to be an exception to his rather fearless life. And it was usually stupid things that got Trevor scared.

Michael leaving him, _again._ Michael dying, _again._ Michael getting hurt. Stupid things, that Trevor shouldn't have cared about, but he _did._ Stupid things that made Trevor's lonely mind spin with worry.

Despite the worry, the loneliness clouded his mind even more sometimes. He kept thinking of the _nine fucking years_ he had spent without Michael, and the loneliness he felt then. He compared it to the loneliness he felt now. Trevor had to admit that it wasn't that bad, but he sure did miss Michael.

He missed the way they hung out and drank together. He missed watching movies with Michael and seeing the cute little grin on his face. He missed Michael sitting in the passenger seat of his truck. He missed the way Michael's eyes squinted slightly when he shot a gun. He missed the feeling of Michael standing near him, or sitting near him, or _being_ near him.

It was fucking stupid the way Trevor sometimes thought about his best friend, and he tried his best to ignore the feelings. But sometimes they bubbled up to the surface and he was forced to think of them. They weren't unpleasant thoughts, but Trevor couldn't afford to think of Michael the way he sometimes did. He'd thought of Michael like that nine years ago, and where had it gotten him? Grief stricken and broken hearted.

When the day had finally arrived, when Michael was finally coming home, the minutes seemed to go like Trevor's mind when he was on certain drugs; painfully slow. He tried to act nonchalante around anyone who asked about Michael that day, tried to act like he wouldn't care if Michael's flight had gotten delayed or if the movie needed a few extra weeks, but inside of him the excitement threatened to completely fill him up. Trevor wondered if Franklin could see through him. The way the kid gave him knowing looks and frowns when Trevor complained about Michael's homecoming, it felt like he knew. When Trevor had instantly rejected Franklin's offer to accompany him to pick up Michael (Trevor selfishly wanted to be the only person there, the first one to see Michael), Franklin looked a bit amused.

Now, Trevor stood with his arms crossed and leaned against his truck outside the airport. His heart thudded painfully against his chest, and his eyes kept darting from the doors to checking the time on his phone.

His heart had leaped and almost ripped out of his chest when Michael walked through the doors, looking down at his phone. Trevor dimly felt a buzz in his pocket, assuming Michael had been texting him to alert him to the fact he was here. He wasn't aware of Trevor standing not twenty feet away.

Trevor's eyes drunk him in, from his signature suit, to his short black hair, to his light green eyes that hadn't yet landed on Trevor. His mouth went dry, his eyes went wide, and his body tensed.

Trevor's feet took off without his permission, and a yell that was something between a cry of desperation and something animalistic tore from his mouth. People turned to look, a few laughing, others looking slightly disturbed. Michael was the last of the people outside to look up and, by the time he had, Trevor had already thrown himself against him.

They went crashing to the ground, knocking over a luggage cart behind them. Michael cried out in shock, and his suitcase burst open, scattering his clothes and things all around them. People stared, and laughing was quite audible around them, but Trevor didn't care. He could feel Michael's quick breaths against him, feel the warmth of the other man, and the fact that Michael was there was the only thing he gave a shit about.

Trevor pulled away, just enough that he wasn't completely crushing Michael. Their faces were so close that Trevor couldn't see anything except the green of Michael's eyes and the blood rushing to his cheeks.

"What the fuck, T!" Michael gasped out, but there wasn't any bite in his words. He wasn't trying to hard to get out from underneath Trevor, but he did try wiggling a bit.

"I missed ya, Mikey." Trevor said a bit breathlessly, his eyes flickering between Michael's eyes. He refused to let his eyes linger on Michael's mouth, though he did sneak a couple glances.

"I missed you too, but you're crushing me here. How 'bout you let me up, and we can hug or something?" Michael chuckled a bit, staring straight into Trevor's eyes. Trevor took a second to stare back, then nodded. He waited a couple more seconds to feel Michael's body against his, then pulled himself up.

He held his hand out to Michael, who took it quickly. Without hesitating, Trevor yanked him close so he collided into his chest. Michael's arms wound around Trevor, their arms crossing over slightly as they hugged, and Trevor didn't want to let go.

He let his head fall onto Michael's shoulder a bit and let out a sigh. Michael patted his back.

"Missed you, Trevor." Michael whispered, his breath ghosting over the back of Trevor's neck. His words were quiet and soft, unlike the last time he'd said it.

Trevor nodded. "Missed you, too." He closed his eyes a bit, just thinking of Michael and how he was back and that he was alive, he hadn't left Trevor. Trevor couldn't express how happy he felt.

After a while, Michael coughed a bit and pulled away slightly, a goofy grin on his face.

"Can you help me pick up my stuff?" Michael motioned behind him to the scattered things around them and the discarded suitcase.

Trevor nodded. "Sure, Mikey."

"And maybe just you and me can hang out after this?" Those words were quicker as they came out of Michael's mouth, but there was still a small smile on his face. Other ones came faster. "Jimmy won't even notice when I get home, he probably hasn't even noticed that I've been gone. Amanda can wait a little bit, she'll probably just want me to go shopping with her later anyways." He chuckled a bit, running a hand through his short hair.

Trevor stared at him for a second, blinking. He wondered if his surprise showed on his face. After a long moment and the slight fading of Michael's smile, Trevor nodded.

"Sure, Mikey." He said again. "I'd love to."

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